


Scarlet

by grim_lupine



Category: Social Network (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Always a girl, Established Relationship, F/M, Makeup, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-24
Updated: 2011-05-24
Packaged: 2017-10-22 18:25:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/241167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grim_lupine/pseuds/grim_lupine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The next day, Eduarda goes out to buy some lipstick. She has enough of her own, but she kind of likes the idea of buying something new for this—picking out a shade specifically for Mark’s mouth, a color that she will put on him and he will leave in sticky kisses all over her body.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scarlet

-

\--

Eduarda brings it up one day and watches Mark’s eyes narrow in thought.

“Why?” he asks, drumming his fingers against his thigh and eyeing her like he’s expecting a multi-part thesis on gender lines or something.

Eduarda just shrugs. “I think it’ll be hot,” she says with a little smile, and it’s _true_ — she’s seen how full and wet Mark’s mouth gets when they’ve been making out for a while, all red and swollen and lush, and she thinks about covering that mouth in slick, startling color until he looks obscene and gorgeous, and she has to press her thighs together a little at the thought. Mark is still eyeing her a little doubtfully, but she _knows_ him—she can see his eyes flare hotly and his thighs spread open a bit in his chair. Mark is irascible and forgets dates and leaves her waiting all over the place and doesn’t know how to say half the things inside him, but he likes to give her things. Eduarda doesn’t ask for things very often, but when she does, Mark always gives in.

“Okay,” he says after a minute, wetting his lips unconsciously and then flushing a little when he catches her following the movements of his tongue. “But if I see you taking pictures, I will end you.”

Eduarda smiles, triumphant. “Deal,” she says, and then pulls her shirt over her head in one smooth motion. They don’t leave the bed for the rest of the afternoon.

*

The next day, Eduarda goes out to buy some lipstick. She has enough of her own, but she kind of likes the idea of buying something new for this—picking out a shade specifically for Mark’s mouth, a color that she will put on him and he will leave in sticky kisses all over her body.

Nothing too candy-red—she doesn’t want to go for garish. She hunts around a little, thinks about a pink, but then settles on a shade that is a deep red, looks almost velvet to the touch.

Mark is watching a movie with Dustin and Chris when she walks inside with the plastic bag swinging from her wrist. He looks up at her entrance, looks at the bag, then back at her face, and she watches his expression snap into one of instant heat. Her pulse is pounding. She shaved this morning and put on a dress, and the skin of her thighs prickles a little with the weight of his gaze.

“Hi,” she says, a little breathless. “Want to come with me?” She doesn’t think Mark would want to do this in his room, just in case Dustin or Chris come barging in for some reason and then laugh at him or something; and she has a single.

“Yeah,” Mark says immediately, standing up and shoving his hands in his pockets. They stare at each other for a couple of seconds.

Chris snickers at them both, and when Eduarda looks over, Dustin is wiggling his eyebrows up and down. “Enjoy your booty call!” Dustin says brightly.

“Thank you for taking it elsewhere this time,” Chris says in the very sincere tone that means he is laughing hysterically on the inside. “I’ve really heard enough of Mark’s sex noises for a lifetime.”

Mark scowls at them. “I hate you both,” he tells them flatly, and follows Eduarda out the door.

They walk with their hands accidentally brushing a few times, and after the third time it happens and Eduarda blushes a little and pulls away, Mark just growls and grabs for her hand, glaring at her like he’s daring her to make something of it. She threads her fingers through his and beams indiscriminately at everyone they pass.

When they get in her room, she shoves him down onto her desk chair and climbs into his lap, scooting forward until they’re pressed close, her arms going around his neck. Her dress is hiked up, and the denim of his jeans is rough against her inner thighs. Eduarda shivers, thrusts her hips downward a little, and Mark hisses through his teeth, grabs her hips with both hands and keeps her close.

She kisses him until he’s panting against her mouth, until she can feel herself getting slick between her legs, squirming in his lap when he tucks his fingers under her bra strap and snaps it lightly against her skin. Finally, she pulls back and bends down to reach for the bag where she threw it down on the floor.

Mark grabs her wrist when she straightens back up. “This was your idea, so if I look ridiculous you can’t laugh at me,” he says tightly, and Eduarda just blinks at him for a moment.

“Mark, you—you’re going to look fucking _amazing_. I’ve been thinking about it all day,” she says honestly, and then cups his cheek in one hand. “We don’t have to, you know. Just tell me if you don’t want to.”

Mark looks at her with a blank expression, but she can see right into him—his eyes search her face, because the thing Mark is most afraid of is ridicule, and she doesn’t know how to convince him that she will never, _never_ do that to him. She just lets him look and look until his face eases into a stubborn expression that she knows too well, she’s seen it so often—Mark cannot back down from a challenge.

“I didn’t double-dog-dare you, you _can_ say no,” Eduarda says dryly, and Mark turns his head a little to nip at her palm.

“It’s just makeup,” Mark says a little grumpily. “Just do it.”

She rolls her eyes at him, grinning a little, and uncaps the lipstick with a _pop_. “Now I know this is hard for you, but don’t talk,” she says firmly, and bites her smile into submission at the way Mark’s eyes narrow in a glare. She parts his lips gently with her thumb until his mouth is half-open, and scoots back on his lap to get a better angle. Mark’s breath washes out hot against her fingers, and he stays absolutely still for her when she holds his lip taut and applies the lipstick meticulously. It goes on slick and smooth, a rich splash of color that reminds Eduarda of that time Dustin brought Kool-Aid back to their room and Mark drank four cups of it until his mouth was stained scarlet. She’d dragged him into his room minutes after that, she remembers.

Eduarda pulls her fingers out of the way so she can get at Mark’s top lip, corner to corner, wiping excess from the edge with her nail. When she’s done, she caps the lipstick and stares at her handiwork: Mark’s mouth is still half-open, richly red and full, tongue flicking out to lap at his lower lip, and Eduarda lets out a shocked little, “ _Fuck_.” He looks better than she could have imagined. He looks _filthy_. She wants to suck on his mouth for hours.

“Fuck,” she says again, and can’t help herself; reaches out and drags his lower lip down with her thumb, pressing against the slick inside so she doesn’t mess up too much of the lipstick. Mark makes a noise low in his throat, and she lets his lip slide back, smearing a little red down his chin. “You look amazing,” she says breathlessly, and only then does she realize she’s been grinding down onto him for a while now, tiny circles, working herself against his cock through his jeans.

“Warda,” Mark says in a voice strained with need, and puts his hand in her hair and yanks her head down so he can kiss her thoroughly; the lipstick tastes a little plastic against her tongue, and she keeps pulling back to look at him, his mouth a ruined, wet mess that makes him look already _wrecked_.

Then Mark unhooks the tiny hook at the top of Eduarda’s dress and yanks the zipper down to her lower back in one deft move. His hand is warm against her skin, and the straps of her dress slide off her shoulders, and he doesn’t even let her get off his lap; just pulls the front of her dress down and unhooks her bra in the back and yanks it off her, and then he’s cupping her breast and leaning down to suck her nipple into his mouth, and it’s so _good_. Eduarda lets out a choked little cry, holds his head in place and grinds against him harder; she’s so wet she’s soaked through her panties, and she needs, she needs—

“Let me, I need to—” she pants, trying to get off his lap onto legs that don’t seem to be working, and the way his arms tighten around her for an instant and he lets out a growl like he doesn’t intend to ever let her up makes her go liquid. He lets her get up finally, and she’s out of her dress in two seconds flat and then steps out of her panties, and she sits on her bed and stares down at the red ring around her nipple from Mark’s mouth. Something throbs inside her, an empty clench of need.

Mark walks over and flattens the two of them on her bed, nipping at her skin, putting his mouth on her _everywhere_ , leaving behind a trail of vibrant smears as he goes. He sucks at her breasts for a while until Eduarda writhes a little and says in a half-gasp, “Mark, I need, _please_ —”

Mark slides down, parts her thighs. Presses a kiss to the inside of each one, so close to where she needs him, and Eduarda feels another rush of liquid heat wash through her. He runs his lower lip against the crease of her thigh, and Eduarda sobs a little, swearing at him until he finally darts forward and laps at the center of her. He doesn’t tease anymore, just licks at her clit and works his fingers inside her and lets her tug on his hair and tell him “there, there, _more_ , Mark _fuck_ —”

He takes her apart right there, and when she comes it feels like dying, in the best way; and when he looks up at her from between her legs with his red, lush mouth and says desperately, “Warda, Warda,” like her name is all he knows, she loves him so fiercely in that moment that it takes her breath away, crashes over her, leaves her shaken and helpless and blind.

*

The next morning, Eduarda washes up a little and sprays perfume behind her ears and in the dip between her breasts, but she doesn’t shower. She dresses up in a staid pencil skirt and a silk blouse and high heels, sweeps her hair up with a clip, and walks out of her room looking every inch the professional young businesswoman.

She woke Mark up and kissed him carefully before she left, and he’s still in her bed now as she goes to class. He’s still there with his perfect, beautiful red mouth; and under her serious, perfect clothing there are red kisses on the curve of her breast, the inside of her thigh, everywhere she marked him and he marked her in return.

Eduarda smiles to herself, and walks with a self-satisfied swing in her step for the entire rest of the day.

\--

-


End file.
